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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814252">Gifts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell'>Hopetohell</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mission: Impossible (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gore, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Sexualized Violence, Smut, stylized gore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:29:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>506</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetohell/pseuds/Hopetohell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>This is about what he asked you that night when he was buttoned to the neck, smooth and beige and boring save for the fire in his eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>August Walker is seductive, confident, cruel. To accept his offer is to bring about your own ruination.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>August Walker/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gifts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s not punishment, not penance, <em>god, </em></p>
<p>
  <em>This is a gift. </em>
</p>
<p>this is all your darkness brought to light, every wretched night spent writhing on your hand while you thought about him, about the way he could crack you open to suck the marrow from your bones;</p>
<p>
  <em>Think of geodes, think of little crystals like needles in your blood, think of your joints bound up with pain every time you move.</em>
</p>
<p>this is about what he asked you that night when he was buttoned to the neck, smooth and beige and boring save for the fire in his eyes. This is about the way he looked at you, all the flames of hell behind his gaze and he can’t possibly be human, he can’t, not with the words he breathed into your ear.</p>
<p>
  <em>I will tear you to pieces, I will make you hurt, I will make you bleed and you will thank me. I will peel the flesh from your bones and I will press my fingers into your raw and burning muscles; I will separate their fibers and force myself between them. So how about it?</em>
</p>
<p>And all of this while he held his drink but never took a single sip. All of this in a voice like he was talking about the weather, cool and calm and bland but his eyes,<em> fuck,</em> they burned right through you. And you said <em>yes </em>because you were curious, <em>yes </em>because he spoke with the confidence of a man who already had what he wanted, <em>yes </em>because when he crowded against you he was hot and hard and his teeth were so very sharp. </p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t need to tell you that you’re mine, sweet thing, you know it through and through; my mark is on you inside and out. </em>
</p>
<p>He’s worse than a weakness; he’s a liability. He seethes just below the surface, all eels and worms that writhe under his skin. His hands grip and bruise and choke and he is rough, he is cruel; you can feel every callous and crack in his hands when he pries you open, when he hooks his thumbs into your cunt and stares into the pulsing core of you. And you have</p>
<p><em>No secrets, I know what makes you tick, I know I’m what you think about when you can’t sleep at night. I know you try to hurt yourself like I hurt you. You can’t do it and it frustrates you, doesn’t it?</em> </p>
<p>tried to find it for yourself, that knife’s edge of pleasure and pain, but you hold yourself back and you aren’t ever satisfied, are you? He’s cracked open something deep in you, something that makes you wretched and weak for him, something that makes you crave the feel of his foot on your neck, his hand petting at your guts, the knife that splits you open neck to navel and </p>
<p>
  <em>You can’t do it because you don’t know how. But I do. Watch me, now. Watch my hand. I have a magic trick to show you. </em>
</p>
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